


Maybe

by yeaka



Category: Bee Movie (2007)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 20:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10199249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ken attends Vanessa’s themed party.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for “Themed Party” prompt on [my bingo card](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/153917135000/my-holiday-themed-bingo-under-cut-you-can-make). Special thanks to my beloved imera for the bee party idea~
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Bee Movie or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Right at the door, it’s not too late to turn back. He doesn’t look as ridiculous as the rest of the nerds behind the door probably do; he just picked a yellow shirt with black sleeves. That was after crinkling the invitation up and chucking it halfway across his apartment in a fit of rage.

But turning back would mean _losing_ to a _bee_ , so Ken sucks it up like a man and presses the doorbell. A minute later, the door’s swinging open, and Vanessa, beautiful, sweet, ridiculously fuckable Vanessa stands before him, smiling right to her big green eyes. 

“Ken,” she greets pleasantly, while he fights to keep his gaze on her face instead of her cleavage. “It’s good to see you! I really am glad we can still be friends.” The word ‘friends’ makes him tense up, but the view’s still worth it. Her black and yellow striped minidress hugs all her supple curves, dips low across her shoulders, and barely covers the tops of her thighs. The high heels on her black boots make her _almost_ as tall as him. 

But the black headband sporting pipe-cleaner antennae do somewhat ruin the effect, and for that, he grunts out a lame, “Hey.” He can’t bring himself to say anymore. She steps aside anyway and gestures into her apartment, where the party’s already buzzing, every idiot inside matching the same colour scheme in a sea of stripes. Ken catches himself grinding his teeth together. Whoever heard of a _bee_ party.

Vanessa follows him into the living room, and Ken strategically doesn’t approach anyone yet, even though he’s met most of Vanessa’s friends and coworkers at least once—it’s only her he came for, because he’s _sure_ he can win her back; _he will not lose to a bee._ She slips past him to the table and brings him back a wine glass sporting honey-coloured alcohol, and he takes it out of her delicate fingers with a forced smile. He opens his mouth to say how ravishing she looks—how much he’d like to _ravage_ her like no bee ever could—but before he can, she turns into the general din and calls over it, “Is anyone hungry? I made a salad entirely out of edible flowers!”

Various ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ sound around them, while Ken _stares_ at her like she’s lost her mind. Which, obviously, she has. She’s always had a weird thing for flowers, but clearly, she’s taken it way too far. When she turns to look at Ken expectantly, he somehow manages to lie through his teeth: “That sounds great.”

“Isn’t it?” she says, lighting up. “I’ll get you a bowl!”

Vanessa turns towards the kitchen, and Ken sees his chance, hurriedly stepping in behind her—if he can just get her alone in the kitchen, surely he can corner her and talk some _sense_ into her. Once he’s got her beautiful body pinned against a counter, she’ll see she needs a _real_ man. He’s sure of it. He follows her around the corner and watches her stretch to reach a stack of bowls in the counter—he doesn’t offer to help because he’d much rather stand back and stare at the way her breasts heave with her held breath—

And then something whizzes past him, and all of a sudden, a tiny honeybee is nestled right between her breasts, and Vanessa grins down at her own cleavage to exclaim, “Barry! I thought you’d never make it!”

“Miss my own party?” the bee laughs. “I just couldn’t settle on the right sweater.”

“Yellow and black. Nice choice,” Vanessa giggles, and it makes her chest jiggle slightly, which makes Ken’s blood boil like a great volcano, because the bee is sitting _right there_ , in one of two places Ken never got to touch, let alone bury himself in, but the bee just _sits there_ like Ken’s ex-girlfriend’s boobs are _all his_ —

With the sort of torrential roar that could send Ken right back to anger management, he turns to the nearest table and promptly flips it over, letting the vase and cutlery atop it smash to the floor. Vanessa jumps, the bee shouting, but Ken’s already storming away with red behind his eyes.

He rips his shirt off in the hallway and marches home like that, figuring better bare than bee.


End file.
